


It's My Job

by spacegaystrashcompactor



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008)
Genre: ALL OF IT, But He Gets Better, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, F/M, Panic Attacks, Violence, by kind of i mean a total asshole, fluffy bucky, like major fluff, more tags to come, steve is kind of a jackass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 22:16:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7819345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacegaystrashcompactor/pseuds/spacegaystrashcompactor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You thought for a moment before standing up and holding out your hand. “Follow me.”<br/>He narrowed his eyes at you. “Why should I trust you? I don’t know you.”<br/>The barking was getting louder, if you waited around any longer, the Repo Man was sure to find you, and then you’d both be dead. But still, you kept your hand outstretched, and he could tell you were grinning underneath the bandana you had tied around the lower half of your face. <br/>“Well, you got about 10 seconds to decide if you trust me or him. Tick, tock, Bright Eyes. Time’s wasting.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's My Job

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno, this sounded a lot better in my head  
> I know this first chapter is really vague, but the second one will go into a lot more detail about what's going on, this one was to really just get a feel for the setting and everything  
> Hope it's at least a little bit entertaining~   
> I live off of comments and kudos <3

Bucky’s heart thundered in his chest as he ran. The others had barely been gone for two hours when there was knocking on the door. GeneCo. They had found him.

So, he ran. Out the back door and through the graveyards, trying to put as much distance between himself and the Repo Man as possible. His metal arm glinted in the lights of the overpassing helicopters, he was late on his payments, that’s why they were after him. Steve and Sam and the others had gone out just hours earlier to try and work some, to make at least enough money for another payment. They had told him that he would be safe if he stayed in the basement and didn’t come out or make any noise, but that didn’t last long.

Vaguely aware of his surroundings, he dodged around gravestones and statues, desperate for a place to hide. Ducking behind a large tombstone, he clipped the corner of it and tumbled down into the last thing he’d expect to find lurking around a graveyard at night. Another person.

\---

Underneath a large man was the last place you thought that you’d end up this evening. Taking in his shocked expression, yours probably mirroring his own, you were quick to blurt out a, “Who are you?”

“Shhh!” He held a hand over your mouth, seeming like he was looking around for something.

It was then that you heard them, the dogs. Quickly sitting up, you looked him up and down, you glanced towards his arm and everything clicked. “You’re running from him.” You thought for a moment before standing up and holding out your hand. “Follow me.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Why should I trust you? I don’t know you.”

The barking was getting louder, if you waited around any longer, the Repo Man was sure to find you, and then you’d both be dead. But still, you kept your hand outstretched, and he could tell you were grinning underneath the bandana you had tied around the lower half of your face.

“Well, you got about 10 seconds to decide if you trust me or him. Tick, tock, Bright Eyes. Time’s wasting.”

It didn’t take him long to grab your hand and pull himself up, following close on your heels as you ducked through a hole in the nearby wall.

“Wait!” He almost collided with your back as you stopped suddenly, dashing over to the edge of the tunnel and grabbing some sort of poster off of the wall and stuffing it into your bag. “I want this.”

Bucky didn’t have time to ask what you took before you grabbed his hand again, pulling him through tunnel after tunnel.

“Can’t have you getting lost, honeybun.”

He wasn’t sure if he should be endeared or offended by the nicknames you had begun giving him. He didn’t even know who you were.

Finally, you made it to a small house and you pushed him inside, shutting and locking the door behind you. Laughing quietly to yourself, you set your bag down on the kitchen table, rummaging inside it until you found the poster you had taken from one of the tunnels. Standing up on a chair, you held it against the wall, beside a bunch of similar looking posters and grinned.

“You wanna hand me that tape over there, dear?” You asked, pointing to the dispenser lying on the counter.

Bucky just stood there, before slowly walking over and grabbing the tape, handing it up to you and getting a closer look at the poster.

_Graverobbers will be executed on sight by order of GeneCo._

He just raised an eyebrow towards you as you shrugged.

“What can I say?” You giggled. “I’m fond of cruel irony.” You hopped off of the chair and pointed over into the living room. “Make yourself at home, I’m just going to go change real quick. I’ll be right back.” And with that, you skipped out of the kitchen, leaving a confused Bucky staring after you with wide eyes.

He looked around for a moment, before slowly making his way to your couch and gently sitting down, as if he was scared that he would break something. Why were you being so nice to someone you didn’t even know? He was a danger to you, didn’t you know that? He doesn’t even know your name.

Eyebrows furrowed as a million thoughts ran through his head, he was jerked out of his own mind when he heard you snicker.

“You know, when I said ‘make yourself at home,’ I meant it. You’re not gonna break my couch by relaxing or anything.”

“Who are you?” He murmured, but relaxed slightly as you walked to the kitchen, watching as you grabbed a couple mugs from a cabinet.

“Name’s (Y/n). And yourself?”

“James,” he thought for a moment. “But everyone calls me Bucky.”

“Well, Bucky,” you turned around and held up a mug. “Coffee, or tea. Your choice.”

“Tea… Thank you.”

He watched you as you made the drinks, you looked a lot smaller without the bulky coats you had been wearing on. Clad in a simple turtleneck and pajama pants, you grabbed the tea mugs and your bag with shaky hands and padded softly to the living room, handing a cup to Bucky before taking a seat in the chair in front of him, placing your bag on the coffee table.

“So,” you started, smiling softly. “What’s your story?”

Bucky was quiet, looking down at his drink. “It’s my last payment, but I’m a little late on it. My brother and friend left this morning to go try and earn some money for it, but I guess they found me after they left, cause soon I was hearing knocking on my door. So, I ran.”

You nodded, seeming to be lost in thought. “How much was your last payment?”

“A couple hundred, why?”

You didn’t say anything as you set your cup down, reaching for your bag and pulling out a few bills. “Here, take this.”

His eyes widened as he shook his head. “I can’t accept—”

“Please,” you smiled. “Just take it.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I know what it’s like to not have any help, so I like to help others whenever I get a chance to.” You gently placed the money in his hand. “I just finished paying off my own debts, anyway. Besides, I can’t have you getting killed before I even get a chance to really know you.”

Bucky thought for a moment, still looking torn.

“Look, if you’re convinced you owe me something, or anything like that, I’ll tell you what, I finish paying off your debt, and you keep me company until your family gets back. That’s more than I could ever want. Deal?”

After a few minutes of thinking it over, Bucky finally nodded, causing your face to break out in a wide grin.

“Great, I’ll take you by the GeneCo building tomorrow to get this all settled up.”

The next few hours were spent with idle small talk, about everything and nothing, until Bucky caught a flash of numbers inked onto your wrist.  
“What’s that?” He asked, his face paling slightly.

“Hmm? Oh,” you looked down at your wrist, pulling the sleeve up slightly. “It’s a long and not so pleasant story.”

“My brother… He has numbers similar to those. Do you know him?”

“That depends,” you reached out for your mug. “I know lots of people. What’s his name?”

“Steve.”

You made the mistake of taking a sip as soon as he said that, immediately choking on the hot liquid and spilling it down the front of your shirt. “Rogers??”

Bucky looked alarmed as he nodded, quickly taking the cup from you and handing you a clean napkin that was laying on the coffee table. “Yeah… Steve Rogers.”

“Well, you’re just full of surprises. Aren’t you, sugarplum?” You laughed as you wiped your shirt with the napkin and looked up, eyes glittering with amusement. “Yeah, I knew him. He used to be my closest friend.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm spacegaystrashcompactor on Tumblr as well


End file.
